The gap in the wooden slat fence in Fort White is not the gate to heaven, but it is the entrance to Purradise. 

The further you walk down the dirt track onto the property, the more cats begin to appear, from out of ramshackle buildings, tents and bushes. 

Monkey Boy, a big grey troublemaker, is named for his climbing antics. Dutch is a puffy little pirate of a cat, and Mayor was called Cheech but received a new name from a visitor to honor his authority. 

Over 130 cats live on the nine-acre property in Fort White called Purradise Springs, a cat glamping Airbnb that also homes Purrapy Inc., a nonprofit cat sanctuary for abandoned, discarded and abused domestic cats. 

Denise and Thom Howard, the owners of Purradise, know each cat by name and care for each one, taking them to the vet, feeding them and breaking bad habits through patient love and care to make them ready for adoption. 

“We have done something that’s gonna change how cats are rescued,” Thom said. 

Purradise Springs’ “cat glamping” model draws guests from as nearby as Gainesville, and as far as South Dakota. The guests are treated by feline “purrapists” in the fashion of the Howard’s “Cats As Therapy” (CATS) philosophy. 

For some, it is a weekend retreat five minutes from Ichetucknee Springs, in a “purrt” with furry friends. The “purrts” are simple cream-colored tents, dressed in string lights, friendly cats and working heating and air conditioning to keep guests comfortable year-round. 

For others, it is a meet-cute with an at-risk cat that they take back with them to a furrever home. 

Each night when they have guests, the Howards light a bonfire of fallen tree limbs and Spanish moss. As cats and guests gather around, Thom and Denise talk about the cats, Purrapy, and tell stories of pirates, stars and history. 

“That’s what we do: we love kitties and we tell campfire stories,” Thom said. 

Denise has only a slightly different take: 

“We love kitties and we know stuff,” she said. 

Thom and Denise bought the property about three years ago, on their 25^th wedding anniversary. 

They had started the Purrapy nonprofit five years ago in Jacksonville, rescuing cats in their home, but when they looked to expand and move closer to the center of the state, they needed a larger property. 

The idea was initially to open a cat cafe, where guests could grab a treat and meet adoptable cats, but it morphed to become a glamping cat sanctuary. 

Denise said when they were looking for a cat sanctuary property, she specifically wanted something in disrepair, that they could build from the ground up. 

They looked at an abandoned alligator farm in Gainesville, where they could raise their own fish for cat food, but that fell through and the Howards happily settled for the nine-acre property at 166 SW Lola Ct., Fort White, whose former owner had renovated mobile homes and left bits and pieces of that work all around. 

Thom was pleased that the spot was only three miles from Ichetucknee Springs, and Denise felt it was a place waiting to be offered a second chance. 

“To me, this property is magical,” Denise said. 

She said every broken-down building on the land represented an opportunity for a new life, and there were nine buildings on the property—symbolic of nine new lives. 

“Most of [the cats in the sanctuary] are on their 10th life,” Thom said. 

Most of the Purrapy cats’ former owners deserted them, and many were rescued from hoarding situations, or referred by a veterinarian, or a realtor or family member after the owner died. 

Some come as kittens, others as hospice cats, some have behavioral issues, and others come with health issues. 

Even the “Resident Purrapists,” who are not up for adoption, can have problems that add to the nonprofit’s expenses. 

Cookie Puss, a resident purrapist and Thom’s pride and joy, disappeared for a few days around the start of the year. When she reappeared, she was walking around “like a zombie.” Thom said Cookie is a tough cat, having survived a rattlesnake bite in the past, but when they took her to the vet this time, they discovered liver failure and other health problems that kept her at the vet clinic for several days. 

She came home with a feeding tube, and though that was removed on Jan. 6, Cookie’s emergency had racked up a $4,200 vet bill, a burden on top of other cats with existing medical needs. 

A young cat named Pixel had a $450 amputation scheduled. Other cats have dental needs, and the cats need a new round of parasite treatments. 

Pushed to the limit by a slower Airbnb season in the winter and the emergency expense, the Howards launched a special medical fundraiser on Facebook. 

“This is really a community effort,” Thom said. “We’ve created our own cat community.” 

Purrapy has been through a lot lately, and at times the Howards have been holding on by a whisker. 

Thom said he had 12 seizures last year and effectively died in each one. In September, he suffered one while he was riding his bike and hit a pole at 22 miles an hour, resulting in a traumatic brain injury, facial reconstructive surgery and “metal whiskers” in his face. 

“I’ve died 12 times, and I keep waking up in Purradise,” Thom said. 

The 2024 hurricane season felled two trees on a trailer with 15 cats in it, and Hurricane Helene joined forces with Monkey Boy to put holes into the purrts, which prompted new tent purchases. 

Though the cats are “purrapists” for the guests, they also receive their own fair share of emotional support. The Howards also have a specific, gentle-parenting style approach to teaching the cats good manners. 

Cats respond to praise, Thom said. He tells the story of one rescue named Winky, who had to have surgery for mastitis and kept kicking off her collar and reopening her wound. 

Instead of scolding her for the behavior, Thom said he instead began complimenting Winky when she wore the flower-patterned collar. He would sing to her and call her “my little flower,” and she began happily strutting around in it, he said. 

Weebles, a deaf cat who is a little wobbly on the stairs, was a biter when he arrived. His former owners wanted to file his teeth but before resorting to that, the veterinarian referred him to the Howards, who took him in. 

Thom used to take Weebles out of his cage and pet him. When Weebles inevitably bit him, Thom would show a sad, betrayed reaction, then simply put the cat back in the cage and walk away to show him that he didn’t want to hurt him, he just wanted to “find out what his needs are.” 

Weebles now wanders freely around the Purrapy Lodge, and Thom communicates with him through a special sign language. 

Purrapy has caught criticism online from people who think the cats are disturbing wildlife in the property’s woods. Thom’s response is that the deer show up regularly, and the purrapists don’t care to hunt birds. 

Other critics don’t like the way Purrapy Lodge looks or smells. But the Howards don’t expect universal support, just that of the cat community that wants to help rehome abused and abandoned cats and maybe enjoy a cuddle along the way. 

“We’ve got a lot of cats to save. This world has not been kind to cats,” Thom said.